
PS 3503 
.155 P7 
1912 
Copy 1 








Class !yS :3^S0 3 

Book T SfTP'r^ 



10/ 



1 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



CONTENTS 



Page 

A Dear Little Boy 53 

A Fool Once Treasured 24 

A Fragment 57 

A Hundred Years From Now 18 

A Kindly Shepherd 7 

Address of Welcome 77 

Ah, Many a Thing 10 

An Address 71 

An Order For a Picture 13 

Anna Elizabeth 54 

Annie Laurie 15 

A Tribute 58 

Brave Men Have Followed 40 

Children's Rally 52 

Dear Adam 73 

Dear Andy 25 

Dear Benny 37 

Dear Andy 43 

Democracy 61 

Easter Hymn 42 

Friendship Sometimes Turns to Love 35 

Heroes Gatheired From Afar 45 

Honestly Now, Don't You? 16 

How Fair Is Life 11 

How I Sing 5 

I Need Thee, Lord 7 

I Walked Beside 41 

If Nellie Would But Smile on Me 31 



lu Hoc Siguo Viuces 12 

In Labor 36 

Joy to the World 31 

Let Scotchmen Sing • 9 

Modest and Sedate 54 

My Flowers Are Withered 29 

My Religion 50 

No Muffled Drums 8 

On Easter Sunday 28 

Old Silver Smelter (Illustrated) 60 

Paraphrased For An Elk 26 

Question the Wisdom ., . .' 17 

Retrospection 46 

Robert Burns 21 

The Saints May Tell 17 

The Pearl Is Born 14 

The Prophets May Tell 49 

The Way Is Long 48 

Three Pictures 19 

The Joys of Ages 57 

To Violet 55 

When I'm Thinking 23 

Who Reads This Page 27 

Welcome the Night, the Day Is Done 30 

When We Are Here Together 33 

When I Take Up the Harp 34 

With You, Dear Friend 56 

Women 47 

Yes, Darling, Yes 32 

You Call Me a Pagan 55 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



BY 



GEO. M. BILGER 



PRESS OF 

THE SPIRIT PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PUNX6UTAWNEY, PA. 



Copyright 1912, 
By 
Geo. M. Bilger 



gC!.A3l92G6 



PREFACE 



To the Reader : — 



A poet said* that poesy 

Is something caught from Deity. 

On whom God placed His prophet's sign, 

Sang, with a lyric power divine ; 

And they who sing their songs most sweet, 

Sit closest to Jehovah's feet. 



No prophet's tongue, — no poet's flame, — 

No heaven-born gift of song I claim ; 

And when the poets' anthems rise, 

In tuneful chorus to the skies, 

Content I'll be, if I have brought 

One verse, to swell the work they've wrought. 

GEO. M. BILGER. 
Clearfield, Pa., 1912. 



*"Poetry is, in itself, a thing of God. 
'He made His prophets poets; 
And the more we feel of poesy, within our souls. 
The more do we become, like God, in love and power.' 
— PHILIP JAMES BAILEY 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



HOW I SING 

I sing, as the hemlock and pine 

Sing with the zephyrs that blow; 

Sing in a diapason sublime, 

Sing in a whisper so low; 

Sing with the wind, as it lists. 

From the land of the sun or the snow; 

Tuning their voices, to soft falling mists, 

Or rising with tempests that blow; 

Sing as the hemlock and pine, — 

Sing in a various tone; 

Singing a song that never is mine, 

Singing, yet singing, alone. 

I sing as the harp, that is hung, 
Sings, with the zephyrs that blow 
Over the chords of gold, that are strung, 
Singing, now loudly, now low; 
Singing the soft soothing lays. 
Of the land of the myrtle in bloom ; 
Rising in cadence, when Boreas plays. 
With the whirlwind, at night or at noon ; 
Sing as the hemlock and pine, — 
The harp of a various tone, — 
Singing a song that never is mine. 
Singing, yet singing, alone. 



[5] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



My heart is a hnrp that is hung 

Where the zephyrs blow over its strings; 

And the tones, on the winds that are tiung, 

Are telling of outward things; 

Singing with gladness of youth, — 

Singing with sorrows of age; 

Singing the tocsin of goodness and truth, 

Singing in language so sage; 

Singing of loves that endure, 

Singing of hope that is fled ; 

Singing of lips and eyes that allure, 

Singing of things that are dead; 

Sing as the hemlock and pine, — 

The harp of a. various tone, — 

Singing a song that never is mine, 

Singing, yet singing, alone. 



[6] 



POEMS AND NEAR'POEMS 



I NEED THEE, LORD 

I need Thee, Lord, throughout the livelong day ; 
I need Thy presence in the gath'ring fray. 
When tempests rock and surried columns roll, 
And worrying doubts assail my harried soul. 
My trust in Thee inspires me to the fray. 
I need Thee, Lord, throughout the livelong day. 

I need Thee, Lord, throughout the livelong night. 
When hope and courage wing their hurried flight; 
When wasted years stand out, in dread array, 
And direst fears enshroud the coming day; 
At Thy behest, these torments take their flight ; 
I need Thee, Lord, throughout the livelong night. 



A KINDLY SHEPHERD 

A kindly shepherd, when in quest 
Of sheep that farthest stray. 
Gathers a lambkiD to his breast, 
And gently leads the way. 

Through wind and storm, through rain and night, 

When far from Him we roam, 

He holds our Darlings from our sight. 

To lure our footsteps home. 



For Mr. and Mrs. C. E. Meyer, of Pittsburg, Pa., on the 
death of their little daughter, 

[7] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



NO MUFFLED DRUMS 

No muffled drums nor bugle no'te, 
No martial requiem here; 

No half-raised banners idly float 
Above the statesman's bier. 



And y^t ten thousand voices, still, — 
Ten thousand heads now bowed — 

Proclaim the death of one who'd till 
Full well, a kingly shroud. 

Then rear a shaft above the sod, 
And let him read who will: — 

Made in the image of his God, 
He's kept that likeness still. 



Poem used in speech at Bar Meeting on death of Hon. W. 
D. Bigler. April 12, 1907. 

[8] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



LET SCOTCHMEN SING 



Let Scotchmen sing o' Scotia fair, 
Her blooming purple heather : 

Her braes o ' Doon, and banks of Ayr, 
Her hills and skies together. 

** Where flows one drop of German blood" 
**Die Wacht am Rhein" will stir it; 

The Marseillaise, across the flood, 
"Will rouse the French Avho hear it. 



I sing a land this side the seas. 
Where freedom shall die never; 

A land to live in — not to leave — 
America forever! 



(To Alexander Paterson, Esq., on bis return from a visit 
to Scotland, the land of his nativity, and while describing 
Its beauties.) 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



AH, MANY A THING 

Ah. many a thing in this world of ours • 

May save us I'rom grievous sin, 

While ranting 'round in pleasure's bowers, 

And purge the soul within; 

But nothing that time nor tide shall bring, 

To us o'er land or sea. 

Can cover our failings with shielding wing, 

Like " ." 

Our solemn vows may prove irksome quite 

And close the doors of bliss ; 

x\.nd turn our sunshine to shades of night, 

If we remember this. 

But memory is a treacherous thing, 

And may leave but the first degree 

And that saving clause, on dove-like wing, 



(To John C. Barclay, W. M. of Clearfield Lodge, No. 314. 
F. and A. M.. on heaving him repeating a portion of the work 
in School of Instruction.) 



10] 



POExMS AND NEAR-POEMS 

HOW FAIR IS LIFE 

How fair is life, and yet ai]:ain, how fair * 

The hand that takes us hence! 
Leaving behind our sorrows and our care, 

Brings its full recompense. 

To finite minds, in cruelty it seems 

That hand doth often fall ; 
\et, through the gloom, this sweetest comfort gleams: 

He understandeth all. 

We often see the weaklings left behind, — 

The noble hurried hence. 
The reason for this glaring truth we find 

Dark to our human sense. 

And yet we laiow, when to that fairer clime 

We go at His fond call. 
We'll understand, in His own perfect time, 

The purpose of it all. 

The Persian poet says: On parent's knee, 

He wept, — a new-born child; 
While all around, from harrowing sadness free, 

The waiting watchers smiled. 

So let us live that, in those moments while 

We that last vigil keep. 
Our faces shall be wreathed with a smile, 

While all around us weep. 

(Used at the Bar Meeting March 13, 1911, in memory of 
Hon. Cyriis Gordon.) 

[in 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES 

(For Clearfield Members of Oousistory.) 

In this sign, alone, we conquer 
Foes who crowd our earthly way; 

Sword and armor we no longer 
Trust to shield us in the fray. , " 

Where the foemeu darkly glower, 
See that cross of glory rise ! 

Where the clouds of battle lower, 

. See it tow 'ring to the skies! 

In that sign, and that sign only, 

Shall wo conquer every foe ; 
Througli the vale, so dark and lonely, 

We may pass, in safety, now. 
Eearthly weapons casting from thee, 

Seek the shadoAv of the cross; 
Its etfulgent rays shall warm thee, 

'Till thou 'It count all else but dross. 

In that sign, alone, we conquer 

Foes who crowd our earthly way; 
Sword and armor we no longer 

Trust to shield us in the fray. 
Earthly ties and earthly treasure 

We may safely cast away, 
For the glor^\ without measure, 

AVhere that sign shall point the way. 



12 ] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



AN ORDER FOR A PICTURE 

An order I would give to thee, 
Oh, limner true of classic art; 
A portrait rare, to paint for me, 
Of maiden fair without a heart. 
Full true to life, the work must be ; 
But label it ''Perversity." 

Her eyes are black, or brown or blue ; 
But Avond'rous brii2:ht they seem to me — 
Or grey, perchance, or amber hue ; 
But she'll not turn them now on me. 
I see them but in memory; 
So label it "Perversity." 

Her hair is brown, I see it now, 
Although her face be turned from me; 
In classic folds it crowns her brow, — 
Gorgeous in its simplicity. 
Ah, paint it fair as fair can be, 
But label it "Perversity." 

Her cheeks are redder than the rose ; 

Her lips are carmine, — wondrous fair; 

Her chin — ^the source of all my woes, 

Obstinacy is written there. 

She calls it "firmness." Well, may be; 

But label it "Perversity." 



[13] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 

With others now, she'll talS betimes, 
O'i art and song and poesy ; 
Of sculptures rare and rarer rhymes; 
But she'll not talk, this maid, to me. 
She's wed alone to art, you see, 
So label it "Perversity." 

Her form — Well, take Diana there, 
And Hebe's bust and Helen's grace; 
Then, add to all a something rare, 
And a composite picture trace. 
A perfect blending this must be, 
But label it "Perversity." 

If you but paint that picture true, 
And ever}^ line that canvas shows. 
The laurel crown 'twill win for you, 
Like Raphael's or like Angelo's. 
'Twill live through all eternity. 
Though labeled but "Perversity." 



THE PEARL IS BORN 

The pearl is born to cover o'er 

A wound within the shell ; 
And pearls of speech, to hide the sore 

That vexes man, as well. 



[14] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



ANNIE LAURIE 



Maxwelton's braes sa' bonnie 
Still catch the early dew; 

But winsome Annie Laurie 
Forgot her promise true: 
Forgot her promise true, — 

Which ne'er forgot should be, — 
But the Love of Annie Laurie, 

Did na' lay him doon an' dee. 

Na' doot her face was bonnie. 

But her tongue was na' sa' true; 
And she forgot her promise, 

As mony maidens do : 

As mony maidens do. 
In spite of all he said, 

Was, lovely Annie Laurie 
Like ony ither maid. 

It would ha' been far better, 

Gin he had waited lang. 
Until the binding fetter 

Had tied them guid an' Strang; 

Had tied them guid and Strang, 
Ere he began to shout; 

For, at little Annie's wedding, 
That duffer was left out. 



[15] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



IHONESTLY NOW, DON'T YOU? 

Oh the stars at night, when they're shining bright. 

Or the glint of the sun xDn the sea, 

Have beauties rare without compare, 

To other bards than me; 

But I tliink, as I stand on the beautiful strand, 

And gaze on the heavens, blue, 

That all beauty lies in a woman ^s eyes ; 

Honestly now, DON'T YOU? 

And in shady nook, when I read that book 

Of Adam and Eve, so fair, 

I cannot weep, with the sages deep, 

That the serpent was also there. 

A woman should, be she ever so good, 

Have perversity too, 

Or I think she'd be, no woman to me; 

Honestly now, DON'T YOU? 

And then we know how Adam could go 

And have the earth pre-empted, 

If he could stand, as the one in the land, 

Whom a women had never tempted. 

And if she then must rule all men 

And guide with a hand so true, 

I thing her part was to play, from the start ; 

Honestly now, DON'T YOU? 



[16] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



THE SAINTS MAY TELL 

The saints may tell of future bliss 
And paint the picture clear; 

But in the rapture of thy kiss, 
I find my heaven here. 

Not all the wealth that earth can show 

Or future years confine, 
Could purchase half the joys I'd know, 

Could I but call thee mine. 

To hold thee, in a fond embrace, 
And press my lips to thine, 

Can years of sadness all efface. 
And make that heaven mine. 

And if, from heaven, there inure 

No other joys to me, 
God grant thy kisses may endure 

Throughout eternity! 



QUESTION THE WISDOM 

I think that you question the wisdom 
Of his advancement, overmuch; 

He can attend to those duties 

That a gentleman couldn't touch. 
On the promotion of an acquaintance. 

[17] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



♦. 



A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW 



What tho' my heart is weary. 

The years will make it right; 
What tho' my way is dreary, 

The morn will follow night. 
My rest will be unbroken, 

And peaceful be my brow; 
Forgot' each harsh word spoken, 

A hundred years from now. 



What tho' dear friends may leave me, 

The journey soon will end ; 
What tho' fond hearts may grieve me, 

The years all griefs will mend. 
When grass shall grow above me. 

And peaceful be my brow, 
I'll sigh for none to love me, 

A hundred years from now. 



(On Alex. Paterson saying: "It will na make any differ 
fifty years fra' noc") 



[181 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



THREE PICTURES 

A young matron leaned, in her husband's embrace, 
With the joy of the ages suffusing her face. 
Gently she swung a babe to and fro, 
Crooning a melody, soft and low: — 

Sleep my baby, sweetly sleep ; 
Angel guards their vigils keep; 
Father, mother, hovering near, 
Naught of earth hast thou to fear; 
Rich in promise, coming years. 
Free from sorrow, pain and tears ; 
Angel guards their vigils keep; 
Sleep my baby, sweetly sleep, 



A young widow, clad in the garments of woe, 
Stood, as she swung a babe to and fro ; 
Lifting her eyes to the heavens above ; 
Poured out her soul in this message of love :- 

Sleep my baby, sweetly sleep. 
Angel guards their vigils keep; 
Mother only hovers near. 
Still my babe, thou'st naught to fear; 
Tho' bereft of his caress, 
God will keep the fatherless; 
Angel guards their vigils keep; 
Sleep my baby, sweetly sleep. 

[19] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



A young maiden stood, from the others apart, 
Clasping a sweet little babe to her heart. 
Badge of a love that is withered and dead, — 
Hostage of shame and of hope that is fled, — 
Saddest of sights in this sad world of woe; 
Wailing a melody, soft and low: — 

Sleep my baby, sweetly sleep, < 
Angel guards their vigils keep; 
Tho' from all the world apart, 
I still clasp thee to my heart. 
Tho ' my portion be but shame. 
Still the Ma,n of Naz 'reth came. 
Not to call the innocent, 
But the sinners to repent; 
Tho' like Hagar, to the wild, 
God will go with us, my child ; 
Angel guards their vigils keep ; 
Sleep my baby, sweetly sleep. 



(Writteii during the trial of a case in Quarter Sessions, 
in Clearfield county, Penn'a.) 



[20] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



ROBERT BURNS 



Great Robin sleeps, wae worth the day 

When Scots were ca'd to mourn his clay! 

The greatest singer o' them a', 

Fra' lowly cot to castle ha', 

Has passed, fra' oot the sight o' men, 

To live forever in their ken. 



The greatest harp, that e'er was strung, 
Is on the silent rafter hung ; 
And, though its tones are stilled, today, 
The 'echoes, waked, will live for aye. 



Not his to sing o' grand estate, — 

But ever o' the simple, great: 

His songs ha' lifted lowly man 

To king's estate, throughout the Ian'; 

An' taught the lis'ning world to see 

That "mon to mou" CAN "brithers be. 



Wbo weeps beside his lowly tomb, 
Weeps for a world that's cast in gloom; 
And they, who gather at his bier, 
Drop, for mankind, the scalding tear. 



[21] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



But Robin, none so blest as thou 

Since came the law fra' Sinai's brow. 

Though fortune fra' thee e'er was hurled, 

Thy songs ha' lifted up a world. 

Thy way was drear that thou might 'st be 

The bard of all humanity. 



And, though thy goodness we adore, 
Thy frailties, too, we love the more, 
As living, breathing, human things 
That gave thy roving fancy wings 
That held it, closer to the earth 
An' made thee sing o' common worth. 



In thy great life and works we see, 
The writing hand o' destiny. 



[22] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



WHEN I'M THINKING 

When I'm thinking of Hell, with its sulphurous flame, 
And I'm doubting there's anything in it, 

I think of BLANK BLANK of malodorous fame, 
And I'm orthodox in a minute. 



With houses erected to shelter the men 
From the sharp drifting snow and the wind, 

We mortals would build us a sty or a pen 
To hold BLANK BLANK and his kind. 



And with vistas elysian for the gen'rous in heart, — 
A land flowing with honey and milk — 

There would have to be flame and hot pitch set apart 
To receive BLANK BLANK and his ilk. 



[23] 



POEMS AND NEAR POEMS 



A FOOL ONCE TREASURED 



A fool once treasured a piece of glass 

That iie thought was a diamond, rare ; 

And he dreamed of the joys, as the years should pass, 

That he'd buy v/ith tliis diamond (this piece of glass) 

And he reared his dream-castles, fair. 



A greater fool there was, alas, 

Who broke this jewel rare; 

And showed the fool, 'twas a piece of glass, 

And left him, weeping, there. 

TO KNOW NOT was bliss; but oh, the sting, 

TO KNOW his jewel a worthless thing. 



(An old citizen of Coalpovt carried a piece of glass that 
he thought a diamond. A butcher broke it with his cleaver 
and convinced him of his mistake. 

April 4th, 1911. 



[24] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



DEAR ANDY 

Dear Andy, Lad, what's this we hear 
That makes our left lug burn? 

A hizzie kissed ye on the cheek, 
An' was na' kissed in turn ! 



Abin the raging billows roar. 

To Skibo castle, back. 
The sound o' that fond kiss did soar,- 

But na' the answering smack. 



The tartan sheen's o' greenish hue, 
An ' bloomin ' heather 's fair to see ; 

But they ha' tint their beauty noo'. 
Since Andy lost his gallantry. 



Ye've mony a puir tenant mon, 
"Who 'd think himsel ' in clover, 

Gin he could wander through that Ian' 
An' always play the lover. 



And why the lairds and gentry bold 
Should stan ' for such a story ! 

(To a prominent American citizen from one of his retainers 
at Skibo Castle, on reading the newspaper accounts of his 
encounter with a woman.) 

[25] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



Forgetting Scotia's fame of old, — 
Unmindful o' her glory! 

Where claymores clash an' brave men dee, 
We've never sought for cover. 

Then why fra' darts o' Cupid flee, 
When ye should play the lovet? 

That buirdly chiel, young Hobson noo, 

Can strut like bubbly jock; 
And Andy, I'm afraid 'tis true, 

Ye 're na' o' our ain folk. 

But, aiblins, ye 're ain wife was there, 

An' ye had na' a chance? 
If this be true, My Andy Dear, 

Please cable it, at ance. 



PARAPHRASED FOR AN ELK 

The faults of our friends we would write in the sand, 

Their virtues we'd carve in the stone. 
Their frailties, the waves should efface from the strand. 

While their praises should stand out alone. 



[26] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



WHO READS THIS PAGE 



"Who reads this page, please think of me," 

Why maiden, yes, I'm thinking. 
Through shimmering veils of mystery, 

Thy bonny eyes are blinking. 
Are those sweet eyes of black or blue ? 

I fain would see them nearer; 
Or grey perchance, or amber hue? 

Ah ! make the vision clearer ! 



The hair that crowns that brow of snow, — 

Those soft bewitching tresses; 
Its color now I fain would know ? 

But futile are my guesses. 
No doubt thou art a maid so fair, 

That none I know are dearer ; 
But still, methinks, I'll turn my care 

To those whom I find nearer. 



(On finding the first line written on the margin of a book.) 
[27] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



♦. 



ON EASTER SUNDAY 

On Easter Sunday, here we meet 
And kneel before Jehovah's feet: 
'To eat of the unleavened bread, 
And ask His blessing on our head. 
To taste together of the wine 
And cause the lights again to shine; 
To share and make the roses be 
Chaste witnesses of purity; 
To pledge, anew, fraternal love, 
And lift our voices, far above 
The tumults and the strifes that lie 
Upon the earth, to God on high. 



(For the brethren of the Scottish Rite of Clearfield, April 
15th, 1906.)* 

[28] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



MY FLOWERS ARE WITHERED 

My flowers are withered and turned to dust; 

Their petals are blown away ; 
But the perfume remains, as the perfume must, 

Though the vase be broken and cumbered with rust, 
Like the ghost of a vanished love and trust 

And a hope that is gone for aye. 



My heart lies withered, its hope is fled — 

The hope of a vanished day ; 
And I sigh for a love, the love that is dead. 

That my erring, stumbling feet has led, 
Through the dark and storm, like a beacon red, 

And the joys of a vanished day. 



[29] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



♦. 



WELCOME THE NIGHT, THE DAY IS DONE 

Welcome the night ! The day is done ; 

Its weary toil is past ; 

The morning mists, the blinding sun, 

The length 'ning shadows, following on, 

Bring home and rest, at last. 

Why reckon victories lost or won? 

Welcome the night! The day is done. 

Welcome the night ! The day is done ; 

This fitful life is o'er. 

With weary feet and aching hand, 

I reach the boat upon the strand, 

And pass to farther shore. 

And, when I touch it, may I say 

The night is past! Welcome the day! 



(On Dr. Free, of DuBois, Pa., saying to me, "Bilger, a 
thought fO|- you, 'Weloome the night, the day is done'!") 

[30] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



IF NELLIE WOULD BUT SMILE ON ME 

Had I the wealth o ' Klondike mines, 

To run my coffers o'er — 

The diamonds Africa's confines 

Could send, to swell my store ; 

Had I attained the laurel sweet, — 

The crown of victory; — ■ 

I'd lay them all at Nellie's feet. 

If she'd but smile on me. 

If she'd but smile, my song would rise, 

In accents loud and clear; 

All future joys I could despise, 

And find my heaven here. 

I'd sing a song, more sweet by far 

Than carolled now, o'er land or sea, 

And write my name upon a star, 

If Nellie would but smile on me. 



JOY TO THE WORLD 

"JOY TO THE WORLD! THE LORD HAS COME" 

To earth, this "HOLY NIGHT." 

"ROCK OF AGES," through the gloom, 

And "LEAD," "KINDLY LIGHT" 

Awake my yearning soul to be 

"NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE." 

(On hearing the Tyrone band render the above named 
tunes on Xmas morning, 1911.) 



[31] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



♦. 



YES, DARLING, YES 

Yes, Darling, yes: These eyes of mine, 

Two little images enshrine. 

Of little girls like you; 

With flaxen curls, — with eyes of blue, 

They're looking out, so fond, so true, 

My little love, at you. 

Deep in my heart, you little elf, 

Another image of j'ourself, 

That ne'er can be effaced; 

AVith flaxen curls and eyes of blue. 

And smiles and dimples, just like j^ou, 

Your little hands have traced. 



(On my little daughter, Nellie, then about three years of 
age, saying, "Papa, I see two little girls in your eyes, just 
like me.") 



[32] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



WHEN WE ARE HERE TOGETHER 



WiherL we are here together, love, 

Thou may'st perchance be coy. 

And chide my too impulsive mood 

And regulate my joy; 

But when we come to part Dear Heart, 

If only for an hour. 

Be mindful how you play your part 

And wield your queenly power; 

My heart is such a tender thing 

When in the presence of its Queen. 



■When I from out thy presence go, 

The slightest word of thine 

May to tremendous import grow. 

And crush this heart of mine; 

Or faintest smile or fond caress 

Kindles the poet's flame, 

And lifts my singing soul to bliss 

In music of thy name. 

My heart is such a tender thing 

When I am dreaming of its Queen. 



[33] 



POEMS AND NEAR POEMS 



«. 



WHEN I TAKE UP THE HARP 

Wlien I take ui) the liarp, that I'or ages hath rung, 
With that theme of past eons and eons to be ; 
And its soft, soothing notes, on the -wild winds are flung, 
And I'm singing of love, I sing only of thee. 

Though distance may hold me, away from thy side, 
j\ly thoughts, all unl'eltereii, are ever with thee; 
And there they will tarry, wihatever betide, 
And bask in that presence, forbidden to me. 

Tlie seulptor, who fashioned those features divine, 

And moulded tliat heavenly form, at ITis will. 

Attuned my wild heart-strings, responsive to thine. 

To sound love's sweet chords, till thine own sliall be still. 

When softly the y^ephyrs of feeling shall blow, 
-Or tempests of passion awaken the strain, 
They call forth an echo, responsive and low. 
Or throb through tliis bosom with pleasure and pain. 

Wlien that semblance of heavenly music below, 
Shall pass, like the flowers, with summer's brief day, 
III siliMiee I'll sit, by the waters of woe. 
And liang up my harp on the willows, for aye. 



4] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



FRIENDSHIP SOMETIMES TURNS TO LOVE 

Though ''Frientiship sometimes turus to love, 
But love to friendship, never;" 
True friends may still full constant prove, 
While flows life's turbid river. 



And though the chains of love may hind,- 
Friendship's may prove the stronger; 
And, in the throes of life, you'll find 
They may endure the longer. 



And if they break, as break they may, 
And tear true hearts asunder ; 
True love may there expiring lie, 
And friendship rise from under. 



But still, in spite of all they say, 
'Twixt kindred hearts so pure, 
True friendship's but another name 
For love, that will endure. 



[35] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 

IN LABOR 



In labor, here, 
Whate'er of gear 

"We get with our contriving, 
Tiie greatest prize, 
Before us, lies — 

The pleasure bought with striving. 



'Though wealth may flow, 
As, to and fro. 

We go where cares have sent us; 
The joy that's won. 
In tasks well done, 

Alone should full content us. 



And then there lies. 
Beneath the skies, — 

Our failings aU besetting, — • 
No thing we see 
Like industry 

To teach to us FORGETTING. 



[361 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



DEAR BENNY 

Dear Benny, had I a bright little isle, 
Under Mediterranean skies, 

I'd bask in the smile 

Of the maids of the isle, — 

And reck' not of time as it flies. 



Like Cruso, I'd think of the worlds that were mine, 
As from Aetna, the whole I'd behold. 

And I'd never pine. 

For the joys that were mine, 

In the town that was once known as "Old." 



Mount Aetna should never concern me, the while, 

Nor rumors of earthquakes annoy; 
My reports I'd compile 
And my hours beguile, 

With pleasures, devoid of alloy. 



I own, it might worry my Consular head 
To have Jones of "Old Philly" sail in, 

With the bright flaming red 

And the cross of King Ed, 
And nary a star to be seen. 



[3^ 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



Those, who know not enoufi:h to oome in from the damp, 

Aliglit (luestiou the whorerore of this; 
Uut may ehills ami the CRAMP 
Seize the niiserabh^ seamp. 

Who wouUl say that there is aught amiss! 



The future might worry the king and the peasant; 

It never would hot her my head. 
I'd live in the present, 
'Mid scenes that are pleasant, 

Nor reckon the years when I'm dead. 



And, speaking of hours. If at "Monty" some night, 
You attempt oUl dame Fortune to lure. 

See that motto so trite, 

On Ihe wall at the right, 
'Ttu-eunt et eiuuputautur. " 



That "Hours are passing" I cannot refute, 
Nor "Charged to our account" can deny. 

These I'd never con\pute, 

And you'll never dispute. 

That pleasures can help them to fly. 



i:>si 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



When maidens should gather, to tread out the wine, 

Like Mahomet's houris of old, 
The joy would be mine. 
With this fruit of the vine, 

To drive out the blues and the cold. 



In leisure from pleasure, I now must confess, 
I'd garner this juice of the grape; 

And a cask I'd express, 

To my friends, of the best ; 
Nor bwther these questions of state. 



To Hon. Benj. F. Chase, American Cousul at Catania, Italy. 

[391 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



BRAVE MEN HAVE FOLLOWED 



Brave men have followed the guidon far, 

Followed where heroes might lag; 

Followed through thick of sulphurous war, 

Dressed on that fluttering flag ; 

Followed to death where the guidon led, 

O'er ground strewn thick with the mangled dead. 



But when that guidon's a woman's gown, 
Trailing the way of our life. 
Never a coward nor laggard be Imown 
Though the way with dangers be rife ; 
Though we march to death, we will follow on, 
When tliat guidon fair, is a woman's gown. 



[40] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



I WALKED BESIDE 



I walked besides the hearse today, 

That bore the form of my friend away 

To his silent rest ; 

And I saw my face reflected there, 

In the glass of the side, in its somber glare, 

And the face was seamed and furrowed with care, 

So sorrowful and distressed. 



Some day, my silent form will ride 

While others will walk the hearse beside, 

With solemn mien ; 

And a smile of peace my face shall show, 

For no more of sorrow, or grief or woe. 

But perfect rest and joy I'll know. 

In the land unseen. 



At Masonic funeral of W. P. Smith. 
[41] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



EASTER HYMN 

The stone that closed our Saviour's tomb, 

God's angels rolled away, 

And Earth takes on a fairer bloom 

This glorious Easter day: — 

Let Earth rejoice; for Christ who gave 

His life, true life to bring, 

Hath risen, triumphant o'er the grave 

And death hath lost its sting. 

The blood-stained altars passed away 

With this great sacrifice, 

That lit the tomb with heavenly ray 

From God's own paradise: — 

Let us rejoice; for Christ who gave 

His life, true life to bring, 

•Hath risen, triumphant o'er the grave, 

And death hath lost its sting. 



Hymn wi^itten for a young lady to sing at Easter service 
Easter, 1912. 

[42] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



DEAR ANDY 

Dear Andj^, we maun sure regard 

Ye 're held as just as lang 

As ony that a Scotish bard 

Has heralded in sang; 

For, when it comes to makin' steel 

Or giein'.a hoos for bukes, 

Ye 're Andy on the job, but still 

Ye 're na' a judge o' leuks. 



This hizzie, noo, wha ye ha' said 

Is Beauty's fairie quean — 

What ha ' gane rang wi 'in ye 're heid ? 

Or has the lassie been 

Misrepresented i' the press 

An' holden up to scorn? 

Such things as this, na ' more nor less, 

Malve ye 're admirers mourn. 



Or ha' ye chosen her frae life, 
An' blasoned oot her name 
To turn the een o' ye 're ain wife 
Awa frae some fair dame. 



[43] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



"Whose glance can rouse a warmer glow, 
Wliose hand ye aft' ha' press 'd, 
Whose bonnie lips can melt the sn<)w 
O' age wi'in ye 're breast? 



Noo, ye 're bnke hooses gie awa 
An' spread them, broad and free, 
An' pluck John D., in deal an' a'. 
But pick na' lass for me. 
I'll just atten' to that ma'sel, 
An ' lee ' ye to ye 're bukes ; 
In steel, ye 're sure a howlin' swell, 
But ye 're na' judge o' leuks. 



On a prominent American citizen designating a young lady 
as the most beautiful girl in America. 

[44] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



HEROES GATHERED FROM AFAR 



"When heroes, gathered from afar, 

Victors from pestilential war, 

Had, each in turn, been summoned forth 

And honored for his chosen worth. 

The King then turned from martial glory 

To honor deeds of oratory; 

And loud proclaimed, throughout the land, 

A ring to him, of his command. 

Who proofs of power then could bring 

To prove him worthy of the ring. 



One came whose words of stirring might 
Had gathered thousands to the fight; 
And many who, with golden tongue, 
Had swayed the men both old and young ; 
And many did of valor sing. 
But still the monarch held the ring. 



Said one, the last of all his kind : — 

**I made a woman change her mind." 

' ' Bring forth the proof ! ' ' the monarch cried. 

And when 'twas brought, not one denied. 

That, from henceforth, they all might sing 

A hero worthy of the ring. 



[45: 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



♦. 



RETROSPECTION 

Out from the warmth and the firelight's glow, 
Into the cold and the darkness, I gq ; 
Away from the smiles and the laughter and glee- 
Travail and trouble are waiting for me. 
Unknown the paths whore my footsteps shall fall; 
Unknown who answer the weary heart's call. 
Broken in spirit and weary of life; 
Trailing my banners and worsted in strife; 
Tell me, ye night- winds, whither my quest? 
Tell me, ye spirits, where I shall find rest ! 



Gone are the flowers that crowded my way, 
Scatt'ring their perfume, at da^vn of the day; 
Withered and trodden and faded so soon, — 
Gone, with the promise of glorious noon. 
Fallen my idols a.nd shattered my dreams; 
Scattered like will-o'-the-wisp's ghostly beams. 
"Voices that lured me all faded away, 
Into the gloaming of life's fitful day; 
Tell me, ye night-winds, whither my quest? 
Tell me, ye spirits, where I shall find rest ! 



146] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



WOMEN 

The Astrologer studies the path of the stars, 
And reads of our lives in their beam; 

And the Alchemist searches for glittering bars 
Of gold, that he sees in his dream. 

The mathematician may render account 
Of the distance of suns in their reach ; 

IMay tell us the number , compute the amount, 
Of the sand-grains cast up on the beach. 

But when algebra, chemistry, organic and all. 

Are mastered and at thy command, 
The greatest of studies is left to thy call — 

The women of this, our own land. 

! smiling, elusive, seductive, sedate ; 

Now dancing, now laughing, now grave; 
Her love an enigma, as unmeasured her hate 

As the breadth or the depth of the wave. 

Unversed in the language, her No may mean Yes, 
And laughter and tears mean the same ; 

With a smile like the sunbeam, you never would guess 
"What jealousies lurk in her frame. 



[47] 



POEMS AND NEARhPOEMS 



St. Peter may reckon the sins of the men, 

And assign each of us to his place ; 
But he'll pause at the balance and hesitate, when 

He looks in her sanctified face. 



If I could advise him, I 'd tell him but this, 

To pass them all in at the gate ; 
For eternity's eons, of torment or bliss, 
• Are too fleeting to settle her fate. 



THE WAY IS LONG 

Oh, the way is long, and the years are slow, 
'Til we've passed where the morning-glories grow; 
Then the way is short, and the years are fleet, 
'Till the downward path and the darkness meet. 



[48] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



THE PROPHETS MAY TELL 

Oh, the prophets may tell of the glories of old, 

When Judah was led o'er the line. 
In search of those mountains and hills that enfold 

A land flowing with honey and wine. 



But the pillar of fire, that led them by night, 

Could have been cast useless, away, 
If the eyes of the daug'hters of Judah were brighit 

As the eyes that I gaze on today. 



And if Moses had placed, well up to the fore, 

Sudh faces and forms as I see. 
It would thrill every man of his host, to the core, 

And how useless that day-cloud would be. 



And so, as I ponder, my faith has grown weak, 
And as fables I think of the whole ; 

For the people of Israel never would seek 
A leader devoid of a soul. 



(A toast to some Jewish ladies, at a dinner at resideoce 
of Dr. L. Rosenthall.) 

[49] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



MY RELIGION 

I know not where or when or how 
God called the universe from space ;. 
Or set in force these laws that now 
Hurl suns and stars in endless race. 



I can not fathom His great plan, 
Nor trace creation's farther shore ; 
And e'en the origin of man 
Remains as hidden as before. 



"Each cradle asks" from "whence" we came,- 
"Each coffin, whither" goest thou? 
And yet, to me, they still remain 
Unchallenged and unanswered now. 



And yet I know, He who did'st call 
My soul from out the realms of night; 
And who dost mark the sparrow^'s fall, 
My earthly course will guide aright. 



[50] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



When threat 'ning dangers dark appall, 
And woes engulf me as the tide ; 
Some hand, unseen, averts the fall. 
And turns the impending blow aside. 



And so my trust, at first but weak. 

Through years of guidance hath grown strong; 

And through the devious ways I keep 

Hath sheltered me from wrong. 



And ye, who think I little show 
The outward signs of piety, 
But little reck' the joy I know 
In feeling that He guideth me. 



And so, through earth's dark vale I tread, 
And know no dread nor fear; 
Conscious some Power, from o'er head, 
Is ever present here. 



(An extemporaneous answer to a charge of infidelity.) 
[51] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



CHILDREN'S RALLY 

When our Savior was gath'ring 
His Hock, great and small, 
He then gave to the children 
This rallying call : — 
Oh suffer the children 
To come unto Me; ' 

For of such is My Heavenly 
Kingdom to be. 

To the proud and the haughty, 
In His words, meek and mild. 
He declared that the mighty 
Must become as a child: — 
For unless, in thy spirit, 
As a babe thou shalt be, 
T'hou shalt never inherit 
My kingdom with ]\Ie. 

Then come all ye children 
And crowd at His feet ; 
Hear His fond invitation, 
In language so sweet: — 
Oh suffer the children, 
To come unto Me; 
For of such is My Heavenly 
Kingdom to be. 



("Written for a yonns: lady sinser. to be suns: by her at 
Children's Rally, to tune "The Last Rose of Summer.") 

[52] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



A DEAR LITTLE BOY 

A dear little boy, for a precious while, 

Into our care was given ; 
But God soon missed his winsome smile 

And took him back to Heaven. 

We 've watched a shepherd bear a lamb, 
In his arms, o 'er the mountain track ; 

While the bleating mother followed in fear, 
And yearned to have it back. 

If to us the choice, would we have our own 
Prom the Shepherd's arms, today. 

Where his tender feet must bear the stone 
And thorns of a weary way? 

God give us strength to answer NAY ! 

Let him rest from whence he came. 
The Lord hath given and taken away, 

Blessed be His Holy Name! 



To Mr. and Mrs. O. Bruce Porter, on the death of their 
four-months old son. 

[53] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



MODEST AND SEDATE 

•She is so modest and sedate, 

So distant in 'her bearing, 

That, sad though 'tis but to relate, 

For men, she's little oaring; 

This makes the problem hard to solve, 

In spite of all my guesses, — 

Just how his stick-pin came to lodge. 

Within her lovely tresses. 



ANNA ELIZABETH 

Anna Elizabeth, 

What fragrant flow 'ret 's breath 

Hangs 'round thy name? 

When I but gaze on you. 

Your eyes of midnight hue, 

Piercing me through and through, 

Kindle love 's flame. 



(On being told that a verse oould not be written on Anna 
Elizabeth^) 

[54] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



TO VIOLET 



Thougfh diamonds may sparkle, and rubies may glow, 
And emeralds and sapphires new beauties may show; 
Though the pearls that are born in the caves of the deep 

May reflect the soft blush of the Mermaid, asleep; 
If mine be the choosing, I'd take for my part, 

One bright little VIOLET to wear on my heart. 

YOU CALL ME A PAGAN 

You call me a pagan, and yet, my dear, 

I 'm orthodox to the core ; 
I kneel at a shrine that His love doth rear, 

And a church-man could do no more. 

I stand here, uncovered, beneath His sky, 
And search for His soul in the wave ; 

And, if I worship the light of your eye, 
I worship the light that He gave. 

When I kneel at thy feet and worship thee, 

I worship His work divine; 
And, if all beauty in thee I see, 

He made these eyes of mine. 

And so may I worship, worship for aye, — 

Worship His beauty in thee; 
Worship His goodness through endle^ day, — 

Worship eternally. 



[55] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



WITH YOU DEAR FRIEND 

I hold it true, with you dear friend : — 
Of life, we live the better part, 
Whene'er, with joy, our efforts t^nd 
To fill one childish heart. 

In these we '11 live and love again ; 
Through paths of youth again may go, 
In joy and gladness, grief and pain, 
Immortal here below. 

What other treasure can compare 
With this great boon vouchsafed to thee, 
Prom these to drive away all care 
And glad den those to be ? 

Let others write their little part 
On granite, mouldering away; 
Write thine upon the human heart. 
And it will live for aye. 



To W. I. Betts, Esq., who suggested these thoughts while 
playing with his children, and who asked me to write a version 
of the little prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep," that would 
omit all reference to death. 

[56] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



THE JOYS OF AGES 

The joys of the ages for others unfold, 

But never, no never, for me; 
I grasp at the shadows of pleasures untold 

To see them float out on the sea. 

To see them float out on the infinite sea, 
Where hopes and ambitions are lost, 

And where all of the promise the world held for me, 
With the wreckage of ages is tossed. 

Perhaps in some other, some glorified clime, 

They '11 all be east up by the tide ; 
And be waiting my coming, at sunset of time, 

Where pleasures, eternal, abide. 



A FRAGMENT 

In our little world, where His foot-steps fall. 
The rolling centuries meet. 
What matter if we poor worms must crawl 
'Twixt the prints of Jehovah's feet? 

Shall we doubt that those foot-prints are here below 
When our narrowed visions fail; 
And question His purpose, who does not throw 
His light on our tortuous trail? 



[57] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



A TRIBUTE 

Hail, brother of our chosen craft! 

We see, this natal day, 
That winds of four-score years may waft 

Tte ibloom of youth away. 
Like tow 'ring pine before the storm. 

Or ship before the blast, 
The years have bent thy sturdy form — ■ 

Broken thy strength at last. 
The step that boldly walked the square, 

Is frail and tott'ring now; 
But years, a crown of glory there, 

We see upon thy brow. 
Though time has borne thy youth away. 

And age has dimmed thy sight, 
Thy heart is just as young today 

As when you saw the light. 
For when the joys of yesterday 

By faint impressions fail, 
With scenes of long ago, you may 

Lift up the drooping scale. 
And now, no doubt, those, strong and good, 

Who've passed from earthly sight. 
Who, by thy side so nobly stood 

On institution night. 
Are with thee, here, in memory, 

So that their faces you may see. 



[58] 



POEMS AND NEAR POEMS 



And brother, we who feebly trace 

The path that you have marked so well, 

Look now upon thy blessed face 
And murmur not, farewell. 

Full many a scene like this, we pray, 

God may vouchsafe to thee. 
And many another natal day 

Revive fond memory. 

And when, mid scenes of earthly pain. 

Thy face we may not greet. 
May we with thee join hands again 

At our Great Master's feet; 
When His own hand shall lift the veil 

That blinds our human eyes. 
To scenes of bliss, that never fail, 

In His owTi paradise. 



Tribute to Brother Past Master John McGaughey, charter 
member of Clearfield Lodge No. 314, F. & A. M., upon reaching 
his eightieth birthday, May 3d, 1907, written at the request 
of the members of the Lodge. 

[59] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 




Old Silver Smelter on a zinc property, Rush, Ark. 



Here "was a dreamer wlio dreamed a dream, 

As he wandered, to and fro; 
And built this monument to his dream, — 

His dream of long ago. 



[60] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



DEMOCRACY 

Delivered at a banquet in honor of Hon. William Jennings 
Bryan, at the Monongahela House, Pittsburg, Pa., March 4th, 
1909. 

In Auld Lang Syne, ere men were free, 
The theme of all their minstrelsy 
Was king or lord, of high degree, 
But never, common liberty. 

The glorious deeds of knighthood rung. 
Old Scotia's hills and dales among; 
But where the bard who dared to sing, 
The common man, the uncrowned king ? 

And when a bard, of later fame. 

Took up the harp, in Scotland's name, 

Sir Walter made the welkin ring. 

To Snowdon's Knight and Scotland's King. 

More lowly born, another came 

W^ho sang his songs in freedom's name 

And, through his deathless lines, we see 

The spirit caught from Galilee. 

Not his to sing o ' grand estate, 

But ever o' the simple great. 

His songs ha' lifted lowly man 

To kings' estate throughout the Ian' 

And taught the lis'ning world to see 

That "Mon to mon" can "brithers be." 



[611 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



But Robin, none so blest as thou, 

Since came the law frae Sinai's brow; 

Though fortune from thee e'er was hurled, 

Thy songs ha' lifted up a world. 

Thy way was drear that thou might 'st be 

The bard of all humanity ; 

And though thy goodness we adore, 

Thy frailties too, we love the more- 

As living, breathing human things 

That gave thy roving fancy wings 

That held it closer to the earth, 

And made thee sing o' common worth. 

In thy great life and works, we see 
The writing hand o ' destiny ; 
And, through the years, we're gazing at 
Earth's first and greatest Democrat. 

But why should you now give, to me, 
The role of modern minstrelsy? 
My name suggests the Rhein so fair, 
Instead o' Doon or banks of Ayr; 
But ye, who look upon the name, 
Just think that roses smell the same. 
No matter w^hat they may be ca'd, 
Frae daisies sweet, to heather broad. 
'Tis true that Teuton blood may flow- 
Like sluggish streamlet through the snow; 
But still, my dash o' Teuton blood 
But calms the rushing Celtic flood, 
Frae Scots o' high and low degree, 
Far famed in ancient minstrelsy. 
*>' 

[62] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



The scent o' heather's in me brain 
And bids me wake the harp igain, 
To tell, anew, our party's story, 
Rejoicin' wi' you, in her glory; 
And, if that harp shall never wake 
With songs o' war and love that make 
The list'ner dream o' heather bell, — 
;0 ' beetling crag and quiet dell, 
I may, in heart, a poet be. 
And hold as dear my liberty, 
As ever Robin, in his prime. 
Or ony ither o' his time. 

Can you the glaring truth disguise — 
Known to the lowly and the wise — 
That poet only dates his rise 
"When death has claimed its sacrifice? 
For, he who would aspire to sing. 
Takes meed of praise the ages bring, 
But wends his melancholy way, 
Where few shall hearken to his lay. 
While present wealth and near renown 
Are garnered by the grinning clown. 

But, when the bard of ancient day, 
Was called to sound the martial lay, 
The maids and dames inspired the song 
And sent the joyful notes along. . 
Shall we be recreant to our duty 
And fail to sing o ' grace and beauty,— 
The absent sweetners o ' our lives, 
Our daughters, sw^eethearts, or our wives,- 

[63] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 

Or shall each one now drtnk a toast, 
To her whose name suggests the most? 

THE TOAST 

The astrologer studies the paths of the stars, 
And reads of our lives, in their beam ; 
And the alchemist searches for glittering bars 
Of gold, that he sees in his dream. 

The mathematician may render account 
Of the distance of suns, in their reach, — 
May tell us the number, compute the amount 
Of the sand-grains, cast up on the beach. 

But when algebra, chemistry, organic and all, 
Are mastered and at thy command, 
The greatest of studies is left to thy call, — 
The women, of this, our own land. 

Oh smiling, elusive, seductive, sedate, — 
Now dancing, now laughing, now grave ; 
Her love an enigma, as unmeasured her hate, 
As the breadth or the depth of the wave. 

Unversed in the language, her No may mean Yes, 
And laughter and tears mean the same ; 
With a smile like the sunbeam, you never would guess 
What jealousies lurk, in her frame. 

Saint Peter may reckon the sins of the men, 
And assign each of us to his place ; 
But he'U pause, at the balance, and hesitate, when 
He looks in her sanctified face. 



[64] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



If I could advise him, I'd tell him but this; 
To pass them all in, at the gate ; 
For eternity's eons, of torment or bliss, 
Are too fleeting to settle her fate. 

Maid, whose starry flag unfurled 
Hails thee queen of all the world ! 
Lovely maidens there may be. 
Far away, but none like thee ! 
All that's fair, from every clime. 
Blends within thy form sublime ; 
And, within thy soul, are wrought 
Charms that make the world forgot; 
From henceforth, thy slave I'll be! 
Light of my soul, I love but thee ! 



But where the bard, of any school. 
Who'd sing the glories of the mule,- 
That animal, with heels so free. 
That typifies Democracy, — 
Void of all pride of ancestry 
And hope of all posterity? 

But all such jests we'll cast aside 
And sing our party glorified; 



And, if we sing that song aright. 
It points from darkness into light. 
We trace the way, from tyranny 
To higher plain of liberty. 



[61 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



♦. 



Our infant states, in days of yore, 

Close-crowded on Atlantic's shore. 

Led by our hand, at one good stride, 

Passed o'er the Mississippi wide 

And, at another, reached the tide; 

And, if beyond this wide domain, 

Our farther boundaries attain; 

If at the glint of our steel, 

Drawn in the cause of right. 

The royal colors of Castile 

Faded to cringing white; 

If other hands, on distant shore 

And many a troubled sea. 

Raised high aloft, forever more, 

The banner of the free ; 

All party lines were cast away, 

"When trumpet called to join the fray; 

For, when you touch b eneath the skin. 

We're all American, within. 



Just pause to think, if Jefferson 

Had left his glorious task undone, 

The joke would be on us: 

Our William now would likely be 

A Frenchman, on this side the sea, — 

Oh, how ridiculous! 

He'd be a Prince, or Count, at least. 

And miss the pleasures of this feast ; 

Our campaigns would be on the bum ; 



[66] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



"We 'd store away our bunting ; 

And, when across tlie lines he'd come, 

It might be heiress-hunting. 



And though, tonig-'ht, you ask of me 

To sing of our Democracy, 

To bard, the subject broader grows 

Then ever party lines enclose; 

And brings a radiance, to our mind, 

That shines alike, on all mankind. 

And even consecrates the gloom 

That hovers o'er the silent tomb. 

Where king and peasant, queen and maid, 

In true democracy, are laid. 

No rich, no poor, no high, no low. 

In our democracy, we know; 

The tenet that we hold in awe, — 

"Equality before the law," — 

Embraces all e'er said or sung. 

Since this old, tottering world was young 

And, heard where'er oppression be, 

Brings seekers after liberty 

Who hail, as trav'lers o'er the sand, 

This shadowing rock in weary land. 

They come, from Danube and the Rhein, 
Whence Severn peaceful glides. 
And gather in its light divine, 
Where Liberty abides. 



[67; 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



"The harp that once, through Tara's hall, 

The soul of music shed," 

No longer hangs on Tara's wall, 

From whence its hope has fled ; 

But other hands, on kindlier shore, 

Now sweep its strings along. 

And wake, in our own land, once more 

The plaintive Celtic song. 

That old green flag, no more, is east 

Ahroad on field of Mars; 

It rests, enfolded, here at last, 

Within our stripes and stars. 

The shamrock's reached a richer soil. 

Beyond the tumbling sea, — 

Its friends, — a fair reward of toil, 

In our Democracy. 



The ship of state, through wind and storm, 
Rides o'er the tumbling deep; 
And weary watchers, on the deck, 
Their lonely vigils keep. 

One chosen party grasps the wheel. 
The others, watching, stand. 
To see, no faltering hand shall keel 
The boat upon the strand. 

'Though 'highest honors crown the one 
"Who guides this ship of state, 
An equal duty rests upon 
All those who stand and wait. 



[68] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



And, if to me, tlie task were given 
To shape, and set before high. Heaven, 
An emblem that should well express 
Those principles that we profess, 
I 'd take, from out the boundless West, 
An honest man — our first and best, 
Of whom, in truth, it may be said, 
As of him who our fathers led, 
The first in peace, first in the fray. 
And first in all our hearts today, — 
And, in the deathless marble, trace 
His manly form and honest face; 
And, in his hand, the world should see 
The oriflamme of liberty. 
And then I'd write, above the sod, 
And let him read who will: — 
Made, in the image of his God, 
He's kept that likeness, still. 



Let Scotchmen sing o' Scotia fair, — 
Her blooming purple heather; 
Her braes o ' Doon and banks of Ayr, — 
Her hills and skies together, 

"Where flows one drop of German blood" 
"Die Wacht am Rhein" will stir it; 
The Marseillaise, across the flood, 
Will rouse the Frendh who hear it, 
I sing a land, this side the seas, 
Where freedom shall die, never! 
A land to live in, not to leave, — 
AMERICA FOREVER ! ! 

[69] 



[70] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



AN ADDRESS 

Dear Brotliers: — 

One year ago, at your behest, 
From out my lips, the quip and jest, 
In a slight measure, entertained, 
While festal hour of evening waned. 

But when the harp is laid aside, 
To Halloween, from Christmas tide, 
My hands may feebly touch the string, 
And, to your ears, a discord bring. 

But here, tonight, no jests will float, 

But songs, couched in a minor note, 

When I recall those brothers, true. 

Who, last year, met with me and you, 

Who, from henceforth, 'neath sun and snows, 

Sleep where the green Acacia grows. 

Death always loves a shining mark 
And, on the sea, a sturdy barqu'^ 
Will sooner sink, from wind and storm, 
Than those the harbor shields from harm. 

They've left us, but their lives appear, 
Before our minds, from year ^^ year ; 
And principles that they professed 
Should make our lives more truly bleps'd. 

This little club, — this gathering, 
A closer brotherhood should bring. 
Make us more valiant in the fray, — 



[71] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



More diligent, from day to day; 
More patient with each others woes, — ■ 
More just and lenient to our foes ; 
More quick to share another's ill, — 
More quick his needy hand to fill ; 
More quick to raise all those who fall, 
And note the good in one and all. 

Let others boast of noble blood ! 

Wliat matter if that pulsing flood 

Come down through line of prince or king, — 

WHAT DOTH THE PRESENT HOUR BRING t 

Bound by no ties of blood are we; 
But, in our Grand Fraternity, 
The ties that bind are firmer far 
Than any ties of kindred are. 

Be steadfast, brothers, in the fray. 
Keep, thou, thy trust, from day to day, 
Remember what our past has been. 
And let your light be ever seen. 

I 'm proud to own you, brothers true ; 
And trust that I may rank vnth you. 



Delivered at Hallowe'en Banquet of Masonic r.lub at Clear- 
field. 

■ [72] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



DEAR ADAM 



Some suggestions to Adam to enable him to secure a re- 
Gman "'"''■ ^''^ "' ^ '^^'^ ^^ ^^^ Banquet to Hon Rust 

Dear Adam, I've thought I would send you this, 

On your case, reported in Genesis, 

Which I see youVe lost; 

But, since I don't know your present address, 

I'm sending this letter to you, through the press, 

At considerable cost. 

You know I'm engaged in the practice of law; 
And, although a lawy^er is not apt to thaw, 
Without a retainer ; 

Yet I've thought of your case, 'till resolved to write 
And offer suggestions to have you set right, 
Which may operate as a restrainer. 

I must say you were foolish, in the first place, 
In ever attempting to try your own case, 
Or enter a plea; 

The man who attempts it is always a fool. 
And his client is ever from the same school; 
We lawyers agree. 

You should have hired a limb of the law, 
To rise in the forum, unlimber his jaw 
And ask a jury trial; 

You'd have had the plaintiff on the dead run 
And secured a verdict, as sure as a gun. 
Beyond any denial. 

[73] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



In the case, ros reported, the facts are not clear ; 

But those that are given make it appear, 

To me at least. 

That the plaintiff's case rests on unauthorized use 

By you, of some fruit, (that Eve did induce) 

Eeserved in the lease. 

There was error in admitting testimoijy "of Eve, 

And, with the Court's interest, will undoubtedly give 

The right to a rule. 

To have the judgment opened, nunc, 

Regardless of laches, it can still be, pro tunc, 

According to any school. 

In challenging jurors, be sure to keep on 
Any man from Clearfield, who may be drawn 
On the jury ; 

And if Eve should happen to be in view, 
See that she has Cain and Abel there too, 
And you'll win in a hurry. 

Then, at the trial, just take the broad stand. 
That the plaintiff, in putting Eve on the land, 
In scanty apparel. 

Contributed so much to the matter complained, 
That he is estopped, and should be restrained, 
For he did it at his peril. 

Then argue, at length, what a juror would do, 
If a woman, clad in a fig leaf or two, — 
Herself a perfect beauty — 



[74; 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



Should meet him some day, with some fniit, on the road, 
And ask him to eat it ; he 'd swallow a load 
And never once think of his duty ! 

If your lawyer argue, with a logical air, 

And you look to the apparel that Eve may wear, 

On the occasion, 

Eve surely will win, but if you should fail, 

Your kite will not be without a tail ; 

They can't breal^ the family relation. 

It strikes me, the plaintiff has a mighty poor ease, 
And, if he be brought to the proper place, 
He'll have a race for his money. 
And, in closing, its hardly necessary to tell 
You, if living in Clearfield it might be as well 
To have Eve see the attorney. 



[75; 



[76] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



ADDRESS OF WELCOME 

Delivered at Teachers' Institute at Clearfield, Pa., Dec. 
23d, 1896. 

Teachers of Clearfield County — On behalf of the citi- 
zens of Clearfield, we extend to you greeting and a gracious 
welcome to out midst ; and, on behalf of your County Su- 
perintendent, his "best wishes for your enjoyment of this oc- 
casion and the assurance of his hearty assistance and co-op- 
eration in rendering this Institute not only the most enter- 
taining that has been held in the town, but also the most 
productive of good to the teachers here assembled. We are 
not authorized to offer you the freedom of the town, in its 
accepted legal sense, but we come to assure you of the well- 
wishes of our people, and that no effort on their part will 
be spared to make your stay a day of pleasure and unal- 
loyed enjoyment. 

You meet together for a two-fold purpose — ^to learn 
from each other, by communing together, and to learn from 
those of riper experience who have been called together to 
instruct you. Which, in our opinion, is of the greater im- 
portance, we hesitate to state, and from which you shall de- 
rive the greater amount of profit rests with you to decide. 
No one has reached such an elevated intellectual position 
that he cannot learn something of others, and the very 
highest may be instructed by the least endowed of his fel- 
lows. 

We welcome you not alone because of your personal at- 
tainments and your worthiness to receive the greatest honor 

[77] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



at our hands, but because you represent, next to God's 
chosen servants, the highest profession among our people. 
T'he unthinking speak of your vocation being used as a step- 
ping-stone to medicine and law, but rightly mastered it be- 
comes an elevated plain from which you may descend, at 
will, into raiy of the so-called learned professions. The pro- 
fession of arms may be styled an ancient and honorable 
calling, but the soldier who risks his life in charging a for- 
lorn hope, in his country 's cause, is entitled to just as much, 
but no more, honor, than that one who devotes his days, as 
did Gamaliel, in fitting a Paul for his life work. The high- 
est duty of the lawyer is to guard the liberty and property 
of his- client, the highest duty of the physician to prolong 
the life and health of his patient ; but into your hands is 
entrusted the responsible duty of rendering the citizen ca- 
pable of acquiring that property and of enjoying to the ut- 
most that life and liberty. 

No knowledge comes amiss to the lawyer, and all the 
arts and sciences may contribute to the success of the fin- 
ished advocate, but when absorbed in the active duties of his 
profession the beauties of fiction and the sweet fancies of 
the poet give place to the dry and musty dicta of judges 
long since returned to dust, and mathematics and history 
are closed to his view ; and the study of the marvelous con- 
struction of the human form closes other avenues of re- 
search to the active practitioner of medicine; but in your 
vocation all ways are open and the fruit of the tree of uni- 
versal knowledge is unforbidden to your touch. 

Columbus crossed the Atlantic, but a continent barred 
his further progress; Alexander conquered the knowm 
world, but man's limited ken robbed him of further glory, 
Hannibal crossed the Alps, but the gates f^^ '^'^me never 



[78] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



opened to his triumplial march. No such narrow bounds 
are yours — no continent to bar your progress, no armed 
sentinel at the gate to stay your entry. The world of Sci- 
ence and Literature lies open before you. In geology you 
may behold the wonders of the earth and in its strata read 
the messages from ages past ; in history you may live again 
the life of a citizen of Athens or Troy, cross the Rubi- 
con with Ceesar or rear a nation with Washington ; in poetry 
you may sing the divine songs of Anacreon or the tender 
strains of Tasso, may revel in the truths of Shakespeare, the 
resplendent conceptions of Milton, the pastoral inspiration 
of Burns or the transparent beauties of Longfellow; while 
in astronomy you may go beyond this narrow sphere, may 
read the m,ysteries of the stars and may travel in imagina- 
ation along that way, lighted by sidereal torches, to the very 
center of all systems, which a great astronomer has con- 
ceived to be the throne of God itself. 

We who are engaged in the other professions of life 
have to do with this day and generation. We stand before 
men and women who have attained their full measure of 
physical and mental growth. They have no future that will 
differ materially from their present. They have traversed 
the way of life until they have reached the mile-stone that 
marks the highest point; their way beyond cannot be up- 
ward, at the best it can be but a further march along the 
same level. You deal not alone with the present. The fu- 
ture, with all its mighty possibilities, spreads in glorious 
panorama before you. Our work is for the present, yours 
for the future; ours is transient, yours is eternal. The 
children who hang upon your every word today are the 
electors of a coming generation, and as you perform your 
duties now shall their children and their children 's children 



[79] 



POEMS AND NEAR POEMS 



heap contumely upon your memory or rise up to call you 
blessed. 

Into your care has been committed the Common School 
System, the bulwark of our liberty. It is the grandest and 
the most enduring conception of man. It is the very quin- 
tessence of pure socialism as taught by the early Christians. 
It is based, as our government is based, not upon the idea of 
a low producing class, and a high consuming class, upon a 
race of paupers and millionaires, but is founded upon the 
broad conception of equality before the law. It is the con- 
servator of our freedom. It is antagonistic to all monarch- 
ial and aristocratic forms of government. That little log 
school house is an impregnable fortress, and the vibrations 
of its bell make thrones to tremble. That system 
is the great leveller of society. It strikes at all class 
distinction and bids the son of the hod-carrier strive to ex- 
cel the son of the statesman. It brings every possibility 
w'ithin the reach of him who wills. It has torn down the im- 
passable barrier that caste had reared across the path of the 
son of the toiler, and has erected in its stead, a gate that 
opens to his touch and admits him to all the possibilities of 
earth. In the Common Schools the true foundation of edu- 
cation is laid. Although a classical education is to be de- 
sired, it must not be forgotten that it is but the veneering of 
the finished superstructure, but the varnish brushed care- 
fully over the completed picture. AVhile the finish that a 
college education imparts is not to be despised, a college ed- 
ucation alone would be the varnish without the picture, the 
gilding without the frame. While it is a necessary finish 
to that which requires finish, the college has been said to be 
a place wherein "brick-bats are polished and diamonds are 
dimmed." It is in the common schools, and in what might 



[80] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



be called public-private schools, that the true education is 
begun, and among those of classical learning the man who 
has builded upon the solid foundation of a good primary- 
education, stands, like Saul, above his fellows, while the 
weak and sickly incubation from the educational hot-house 
of a private tutor will never outgrow his stunted intellec- 
tual stature, or his halting mental gait. 

But with all the excellencies of the Common School 
System, you will never reach the full measure of your use- 
fulness until your great service to the State be fully recog- 
nized, and your names be placed upon the honored roll of 
our country's pensioners, and until the Common Schools 
of our land are so graded that each branch of learning shall 
be taught to scholars of all grades by that one of your num- 
ber best fitted for that special duty. The wish may be father 
to the thought, yet, we believe that many of you will see the 
realization of both. 

It is not our province to instruct, but he who is incapa- 
ble of teaching always presumes to advise. 

The schools of England became noted for cruelty to the 
pupils and your profession in that country has not yet re- 
covered from the terrible chastisement that Charles Dickens 
deemed himself called upon to inflict. See to it that no such 
purification by fire be necessary in this country. The eye 
of your pupil is upon you, see that you set no unworthy ex- 
ample. 

Cultivate an agreeable temperament. While Shakes- 
peare has declared, that "one may smile and smile and be a 
villain," remember that it is better to have your brow sun- 
kissed than cloud-capped ; better to bring glad tidings than 
evil report. Though your heart may not always be respon- 
sive to your smiling face, consider that a tale of woe is 

[81] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



never a goad appetizer, and that the heartiest God-speed is 
spoken to the departing guest who wears a sorrowful his- 
tory upon his countenance. Affect not the supercilious 
smile of ill-timed levity, but show yourself to be a person 
"that fortune's buffet and rewards hast ta'en with equal 
thanks" and carry not your past upon your sleeve. If you 
desire to be welcome at all times and in all places, give ex- 
pression only to that which will give pleasure, and follow 
the directions of that prince of authors' who has advised, 
that you 

"Be not the bearer of bad news: 

Give to a gracious message an host of tongues, 

But let ill-tidings tell themselves when they be felt." 

You have been made the guardians of patriotism and 
you have just sounded the notes of that patriotic tune that 
has been made the National air of half the countries of the 
earth. The flag of our country has been made to float over 
your schoolhouses that your pupils may be taught loyalty to 
our government; but it will float in vain unless the pupils 
have sufficient understanding of the underlying principles 
of that glorious government to make their patriotism of 
value to our country. Intelligent patriotism is a virtue, 
but misguided patriotism is a curse. It slew Rienzi, the 
friend of the people, and brewed the poisoned draught for 
Socrates. It sharpened the axe for William Wallace and 
lighted the fagots for Joan of Arc, and the greatest crimes 
against liberty in every land, have been committed ostensi- 
bly ' ' for the good of the State. ' ' That this shall not be re- 
peated in our day it behooves you to teach the great truths 
of true government — ^the principles of political economy. 
Paint a picture of our government, not as it is today, but 
as our forefathers intended it should be, "a government of 

[82] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



the people, for the people, and by the people." That you 
may rightly paint that picture, that you may teach these 
great truths with profit, first examine yourselves in the light 
of the Constitution and see that you grasp the idea that our 
forefathers desired to convey. 

We are too prone to regard our government as consist- 
ing entirely of national power, and a suggestion that we en- 
joy a dual system is regarded as a return to ante-bellum 
controversies settled upon the field of 'battle. Examine the 
Constitution and learn that in that dual system lies the dis- 
tinction between an ideal Republic, such as we were intend- 
ed to enjoy, and a nominal Republic such as enslaves 
France. Our Civil War never changed that system; it 
never altered or abridged the rights reserved to the States. 
It simply wrote, in letters of blood, the great enactment 
that our union is indissoluble and that the bondage of the 
African race should no longer be legalized in any State. 
Would that it had ended political slavery as well. Inas- 
much as it did not, it rests with you, by a proper spread of 
knowledge, to extend the benign influence of the XIII 
amendment to all races of men and to all forms of slavery. 

It is well that that flag floats over your school houses. 
Point to it and remind your pupils that true liberty is such 
a rare thing upon the earth that it should be carefully nur- 
tured, sacredly guarded and heroically defended. Teach 
them nationalism rather than internationalism. In the full 
enjoyment of our liberty we have bestowed with a lavish 
hand. We have deemed our institutions broad enough to 
shelter all mankind, and our liberty as inexhaustible as the 
widow's cruse of oil. We have stood as a city of refuge for 
the oppressed of all nations. In the days of our country's 
peril a little fort belehed shot and shell into the forces of 



[83] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



the Confederacy. ' It could not be silenced by assault, but 
one man after another came as a deserter from the Confed- 
erate lines and was permitted to enter, and when they out- 
numbered the defenders they captured the stronghold and 
turned its guns upon the Union lines. What could not be 
taken by force, was lost through open-handed hospitality. 

Our country stands as an impregnable fortress. An as- 
sault by the combined powers of Europe .would mar only 
our coast. Their invading army would be lost as is the 
river in the desert, and before the citizen soldiers of Penn- 
sylvania alone the royal colors of the haughty banner of 
Castile would fade to cringing white. We need not fear 
open -assault, but they have come by the thousands and tens 
of thousands and we have bid them welcome and extended 
the rights of citizenship. They came from the banl^ of the 
Severn, the Clyde, the Shannon, the Loire, the Danube and 
the Rhine, from every civilized country on the globe, and 
became a part of our people and we were bettered by the 
acquisition; and they and their descendants are classed 
among our best citizens and, in the days of our country's 
need, have stood among its most valiant defenders. But im- 
migration has not been restricted to the desirable and in- 
telligent law abiding foreign citizens, whom we should wel- 
come, but the unworthy from every land have been import- 
ed by unscrupulous employers of labor and have been grant- 
ed the rights of franchise, until our country has been 
brought as fully under their domination and control as if 
a foreign monarch sat enthroned at Washington. Of what 
avail is our boasted freedom when the balance of power is 
in the hands of an electorate without knowledge of our lan- 
guage and entirely subservient to unscrupulous task-mas- 
ters? 



[84] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 

How precious was Roman citizenship ! When the Cen- 
turion asked of Paul, "Art thou a Roman?" and declared, 
"With a great sum obtained I this freedom," we can see^ 
m imagination, the pardonable pride with which that noblJ 
apostle answered, "And yet I was free bom." A free born 
son of mighty Rome, a priceless boon in his day, and yet 
the time came when the imperial diadem of that great pow- 
er wa^ held aloft in her streets, before the eyes of the pop- 
ulace, and sold to the highest bidder; and today the prince- 
ly heritage of American citizenship has been bartered for a 
vote, until, in our own county, the balance of power is in 
the hands of one thousand electors who can neither speak, 
read nor write the language, and who have no knowledge' 
whatever of our free institutions. 

An alleged great divine recently declared that we no 
longer maintain a government by and with the consent of 
the governed, and when such pernicious doctrines as these 
are sounded from the pulpit once occupied hy the immortal 
Beecher, it behooves you to look well to the rising genera- 
tion that their heritage be not bartered for a mess of pot- 
tage. 

Be progressive. Do not use the bent stick to till your 
fields, when your neighbor is turning his furrows with an 
Oliver. Examine all new ideas and appropriate that which 
is good. While "to be truly great is to be moved only by 
argument," life is too short for you to use only your own 
discoveries, the results of your own research. While the 
rolling stone will gather no moss, the stone that comes in 
contact with no foreign substance will never lose its rough 
edges. Be moving. Profit by the energies, the ambitions 
and the intelligence of all mankind, and by your o\^ti re- 
search add to the general fund of knowledge for those who 
come after you. 

[85] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



Be not profligate of your earnings. Practice economy 
with discretion. Let it be your ambition to amass a moder- 
ate competencey, to ac(iuire reasonable wealth, 

■Not for to hide it in a hedge, 

Not for a train's attendant; 
But for the j^lorious privilege 

Of being independent." 

Not alone that you may ease the jolt^ upon the latter 
end of the journey of life, but that your posterity may have 
that preparation for the conflict that it is your duty to pro- 
vide. I decry not the honest acquisition of riches. The 
holders of moderate wealth are the conservators of the 
peace, 'and the cement of society. In them intelligence and 
well directed effort reaches its normal condition. The ab- 
normal manifests it,s(4f in paupers and multi-millionaires. 
The one extreme is just as inimical to the well-being of soci- 
ety as the other. A writer has declared that if a little boy 
were to be found upon the street with a thousand dollars 
in his possession he would be apprehended and made to 
give an account of himself ; and so he reasons should a man 
be treated who is in possession of a million — he could not 
have come by it honestly. While we hesitate to declare, 
with Emory S. Storrs, that '*a millionaire is either himself 
a thief or the heir of a thief," the lasting honor of man- 
kind is never obtained by the acquisition of wealth alone. 
Great wealth is not incompatible with true greatness or last- 
ing fame, but the road to total oblivion is strewn with 
great fortunes. Do not strive to acquire riches simply for 
the love of hoarding, for he who is distinguished from his 
fellows solely by K\s wealth, will be remembered only while 
his epitaph be read. The house of Rothschilds stands at the 
head of the financial world, and yet not one man in fifty 

[86] 



POEMS AND NEAR-POEMS 



thousand knows the name of its founder, and it has been 
said that of the countless thousands of ages past who have 
spent their lives in amassing great fortunes, the names of 
but two survive — ^Croesus, because, coupled with a proverb 
of misery, and Dives because of its fortunate association 
with that of a beggar. 

You come not as a solid phalanx. Death has entered 
your ranks, and when you sit down to your intellectual 
feast, like the Egyptians of old, you will have this unseen 
enemy of life at the festal board to remind you of the tran- 
sient quality of all things earthly. It will admonish jvu 
to put on the garb of righteous living and to take for your 
example the Greatest among the teachers of all time. By 
so doing you will not only prepare yourselves for that 
deathless existence, to which we should all learn to look 
forward with gladness rather than fear; but will render 
yourselves worthy of the noble profession of your adoption ; 
and in all soeiety and all conditions of men, you will be as 
you are now — welcome, thrice welcome ! 



[87] 



♦, 



Jl 80 t9U 



'DHARY OF 



CONGRESS 



■£ 015 799 604 



